Fifty Ways to Say Goodbye
by erm31323
Summary: Written for the 50 Ways to Say Goodbye Challenge on HPFC, a collection of one-shots about break-ups or someone saying good-bye. Various characters and pairings included, some may not be canon compliant. Chapter 6 - Snapshots of Charlie Weasley's life from Molly's point of view before he leaves for Romania.
1. Letting Go

**A/N - This collection is for the 50 Ways to Say Goodbye Challenge on HPFC. Inspired by the song by Train, the premise of this challenge is to write 50 stories about break-ups or people saying goodbye. There will be various characters and pairings, some may not be canon compliant. Hope you enjoy! **

**Letting Go**

**June 2028**

Hermione sat in the front row of seats in the garden of the Burrow, a handkerchief clasped tightly in her hands. She stared straight ahead, nearly unblinking, as she waited for Ron to join her. There were so many thoughts and emotions running through her that she was having problems concentrating on just one. She felt a hand on her arm and looked to her left. Her mother was giving her an understanding smile, one Hermione tried in vain to return. Her mother patted her arm and then settled back into her seat. Hermione's thoughts finally coalesced and she smiled faintly as she allowed herself to remember.

_**October 2001**_

_There was a knock on the door of the small antechamber Hermione and her mother stood in. Ginny and Luna had already gone out to the foyer of Hermione's childhood church to wait to begin the processional. Hermione's mother opened the door to reveal her father._

"_It's time," he said with a smile. Hermione's mother came and kissed her on the cheek and then squeezed her hand. _

"_You look beautiful," she said and then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her._

"_She's right you know," her father said as he came and stood in front of her. _

"_Dad," Hermione said with a shake of her head, pink blooming on her cheeks. Her father continued to stare at her as if trying to memorize her face. "Something wrong?" Hermione finally asked._

"_No," he said and she was surprised to hear the small quaver in his voice. She looked at him quizzically and he smiled again. "I'm just trying to figure out exactly how I'm going to say good-bye to you."_

"_Good-bye?" Hermione repeated. "I'm not going anywhere." _

"_Of course you are, you're getting married," her father said. _

"_Well, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm leaving you," Hermione protested. "I mean, I am I suppose, but it's not as if we won't still see each other." _

"_That's true," her father agreed. "But it's still a good-bye of sorts." He put a hand to her cheek and Hermione leaned into him. "I remember when I was the only man in your life, but today, another man will take your heart home with him." Hermione hugged her father tightly._

"_You'll always have part of my heart, Daddy," she whispered. He kissed the top of her head. "This isn't good-bye." He pulled back from her and smiled once more, but Hermione could see that it was a sad smile. _

"_You'll understand what I mean someday," he said. "When you have children of your own." He glanced at his watch. "And now we had better get out there or Ron will think you've jilted him at the altar." Hermione laughed and took her father's proffered arm, letting him lead her to her new life._

**June 2028**

The music began and Hermione was pulled from her thoughts. She glanced up at Kingsley, who stood solemnly at the end of the aisle, flanked by a rather nervous looking Scorpius. Kingsley met her gaze for a moment and winked at her and Hermione couldn't help but smile. She caught Scorpius' eye and her smile remained in place. He gave her a small nod and then flicked his gaze to his left where Albus stood. Albus put a hand on his friend's shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. Scorpius visibly straightened and Hermione caught Astoria's smile from the corner of her eye. Rose's friend Celeste came down the aisle, followed by Lily who was grinning widely. They took their places opposite Albus and Hugo and turned to face the back of the marquee.

As one, the guests stood and Hermione took in a deep breath as Ron and Rose entered the tent. Ginny, who had been sitting behind her, reached out a hand and took Hermione's and Hermione smiled at her gratefully. Ginny had been through this once already, James and Cassandra having gotten married two years before.

Before she knew it, Ron and Rose stood in front of her. Ron kissed Rose's forehead and then Hermione stepped forward. She glanced at Scorpius, who was staring at Rose in awe and Hermione's heart clenched. She knew now just what her father had meant all those years ago. She hugged her daughter and told her she loved her. Scorpius had taken a few steps forward and with one more look at him, Hermione let her daughter go.

She sat during the ceremony holding tightly to Ron's hand, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief in the other. When it was over, they all stood once more and applauded as Rose and Scorpius walked down the aisle together. Hermione found herself standing next to her father as everyone broke into groups while Harry and the Weasley men began magically rearranging the tent for the reception. Her dad put his arm around her and Hermione leaned into his side for a moment.

"I understand now," she said quietly and he smiled, Hermione not even needing to elaborate. She watched as Rose greeted her friends and relatives. Hermione saw Scorpius' arm wrapped protectively around her and saw the glances the two of them gave each other. She pictured Rose at three, running and jumping into Hermione's arms when Hermione got home from work. How could time have gone so quickly? What had happened to that chubby cheeked little girl? Hermione's heart overflowed with joy and sadness all at the same time. "How do I do this, Dad? How do I let her go?" His arm tightened on her shoulder and he sighed.

"You just do sweetheart," he said. "You just do." Hermione nodded and even though what he'd said was no real advice, she understood it all the same. They watched Rose until her daughter turned and caught Hermione's eye. Smiling, Rose blew her mother a kiss and Hermione reached out and pretended to catch it, a childhood game they had played when Rose was small. Hermione opened her hand and pressed it to her cheek and Rose had smiled again and turned back to her new husband.

"Good-bye," Hermione whispered.


	2. Mistake

**A/N - Tonks and Remus, one of my faves. This takes place the summer after OOTP. Also written for the Potions and Greenhouses comps on HPFC.**

**Mistake**

**July 1996**

Tonks lay on her side, her head propped on her arm, and watched him get dressed. His back was to her and he hadn't spoken since he arose from the bed. She wasn't even sure if he knew she was awake and watching him.

"Remus," she said softly as he pulled on his shirt. His movements stilled and she saw the muscles in his shoulders tighten. "What are you doing?" He didn't move for a moment and then he began to button his shirt.

"I've got to go," he said as he bent down and picked his shoes up from the floor.

"Why?" she asked again.

"Because, I just," he sighed and then ran a hand through his hair. Pulling in a breath, he turned to face her. "This was a mistake." Tonks sat up, pulling the sheet with her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"We were both upset about Sirius and I let things go too far," he said. "I shouldn't have," but she leapt to her feet interrupting him, pulling the sheet more tightly around her.

"Don't start this again," she said, angry now.

"Tonks," he said shaking his head. She took a few steps forward until she was right in front of him.

"Please," she said and he closed his eyes. She saw his jaw clench and she took in a deep breath and held it while she put her hands on his arms. He flinched but she didn't move. "Remus, you have to stop this. I know all your reasons, all your excuses and I don't care about any of it. You_ know_ that." He finally opened his eyes and stared at her for a few moments. She watched as his eyes swirled with emotion, guilt, sadness, longing and finally determination. He stepped back from her, letting her arms slide down until her one hand was in his free one.

"Tonks, you're young, beautiful, you've got your whole life ahead of you," he said. "I'm too old and I have nothing to offer you. I can't take care of you the way that I should be able to."

"And how many times have I told you that it doesn't matter," she snapped. "I'm an Auror Remus; I make plenty of money for both of us." He let go of her hand and his jaw clenched again.

"And I've made it clear to you that I won't be taken care of like some charity case," he retorted.

"Do you know how chauvinistic you sound?" she demanded. "You want to take care of me, but I can't take care of you?" He glared at her. She'd put her hands on her hips and the sheet had started to slip. He swallowed thickly at the sight, then looked somewhere over her shoulder.

"None of this matters anyway," he said. "I'm a werewolf. I won't saddle you with a burden like that." Tonks made an exasperated noise and threw her hands up in the air, the sheet falling away all together. She turned and her feet tangled in it where it dragged on the ground. She flailed her arms and Remus lunged forward to grab her but missed. She fell backward, landing hard on her backside with a grunt. Remus was instantly at her side, shoes fallen forgotten to the floor.

"Are you all right?" he asked looking at her in concern.

"Fine," she said shortly, making to stand. She grimaced a bit and Remus' hands seemed to flutter around her, trying to decide if she needed help or not. Once she was standing, she turned to the bed and grabbed the long t-shirt that was lying there, pulling it quickly over her head. Remus seemed to visibly relax once she had covered herself. She rounded on him, her hair bright red which Remus knew meant she was furious.

"You are the most ridiculous, most exasperating man I have ever met," she fumed. Remus said nothing, which irritated her further. "I don't understand you. Why won't you let yourself be happy?"

"It's not about that," he said. "I've got my own burdens to bear and I won't put them on anyone else." He sat down in the chair and slipped on his shoes.

"It's not a burden," Tonks protested.

"You haven't had to live with it," he retorted, standing again.

"I meant, it wouldn't be a burden to me," she explained. "You feel something for me, I know you do." Remus opened his mouth to argue but she continued to talk over him. "And I care about you, very much. In fact I," but Remus interrupted before she could finish.

"Don't say that you love me," he said.

"Why?" she demanded. "Because if someone admitted to loving you that might make you have to let go of this wall you've built up around yourself and feel something too?"

"Just…don't," he said, looking at the ground. She sighed and stepped forward again, wrapping her arms around him. Remus stood stiffly in her embrace for a few moments and then Tonks felt his arms move. She thought that maybe he was going to hug her back, but he simply patted her back a few times and then stepped away. He raised his head to meet her eyes and she knew then that he was leaving.

"Remus," she began, but he held up a hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for letting things go this far, for using you like this."

"I'm not," she said flatly. "I'm not the least bit sorry tonight happened." He sighed again and turned and grabbed his cloak where it lay over the chair. He turned back to her before he walked through the door.

"Good-bye Tonks," he said. "I'm sorry." She watched him go, arms crossed in front of her, her hair still flaming red. As he walked down the hall, she sank down onto her bed and with each step he took, the red seemed to run from her hair. By the time the door to her flat opened and closed again, the red was completely gone, her usual mousy brown taking its place. Tonks stared unseeingly at the doorway and as she heard the soft pop of apparition, her shoulders slumped and she put her face in her hands in a gesture of defeat.


	3. Bittersweet

**A/N - Here is my next entry. :) This was also written for the Potions Comp - Doxycide and the Greenhouses Comp - Orchid. Hope you enjoy! **

**Bittersweet**

**July 1989**

Bill sat nervously finishing his dinner, the roll of parchment he had received that day tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. He knew that his mother wasn't going to like what it said, but Bill didn't think he had ever been more excited, not even when he'd been made Head Boy. He glanced at Charlie who nodded. He was the only one that Bill had told so far.

Once they had finished pudding, Molly looked at her son in concern. He had been awfully quiet all afternoon.

"Bill, dear, is everything all right?" she asked and Bill's head whipped up to look at her, a bit of what looked like fear in his eyes. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Had he done something that he shouldn't have? She watched as he swallowed visibly and then pulled in a breath.

"Actually Mum, there's something I wanted to talk to you and Dad about," he finally said. He glanced at Charlie who rose and motioned to Percy. Percy stood as well and moved to stand between Ron and the twins.

"How about a fly?" Charlie asked his younger siblings who all grinned and leapt from their chairs, nearly knocking Percy over in their haste to get outside. "Come on Gin-Gin," Charlie said to his sister as he moved to her chair. "I'll give you a ride." She happily scrambled onto his back and Charlie galloped out of the house, Ginny shrieking in delight. Molly watched them fondly, then waved her wand and directed the plates to the kitchen. She made to stand in order to start the dishes to washing, but Bill put a hand on her arm.

"Let those wait a minute, Mum," he said. She looked at him suspiciously, but nodded all the same and sat back down.

"What's going on son?" Arthur asked and Bill pulled in another breath.

"I know I haven't gotten my N.E.W.T. scores yet, but I've had a few conditional offers," he began and Molly and Arthur both beamed with pride. "I wasn't really sure they were what I was looking for though. Until the letter I got today, that is." He paused and glanced at his parents. They were smiling at him encouragingly.

"It was from Gringott's," he continued. "They want me to be a curse-breaker."

"Oh Bill," Molly gushed, her smile taking up her entire face. She rose and rounded the table, pulling him into a fierce hug. Arthur rose as well, patting his son on the back. "We're so proud of you." Bill returned his mother's hug, relishing it while he could. He knew that once she'd heard everything, she wouldn't be so excited.

"And Gringott's is just in London, so you can still live at home," she went on, releasing him from her embrace, but still holding onto his arm.

"Mum," Bill said, but Molly continued to talk over him.

"It will be wonderful having you back full-time. I did miss you so when you were at school," she said.

"Mum," Bill tried again, but Molly continued prattling on about how wonderful it would be to have him at home. "Mum!" he finally exclaimed.

"What is it dear?" she asked.

"I won't be working in London," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. Arthur's brow furrowed as well.

"The job is with a different Gringott's branch," he said. He paused and bit his lip. "The one in Egypt." There was a stunned silence in the kitchen as his parents both stared at him.

"I'm sorry dear, but I thought you said Egypt," Molly finally said.

"I did," Bill replied, pulling the parchment from the pocket of his jeans and handing it wordlessly to his father. Arthur opened it and read it through, then passed it to his wife. Molly read the letter as well, sitting down heavily in her chair.

"Egypt," she whispered.

"I know it's far away," Bill said quickly. "But there are portkeys and even international apparition. I'll visit, I swear it."

"Egypt," Molly said again and Bill looked to his father for help. Arthur managed a smile, although it didn't reach his eyes. He clapped his son on the shoulder.

"We're very proud of you son," he said. Bill nodded gratefully and looked back at his mother who had been shocked into silence it seemed.

"Mum?" he said tentatively and she finally looked up at him. Her eyes were full of tears and Bill's heart nearly shattered.

"No," she said. Bill looked at her in confusion.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"I said no," she repeated more firmly this time. "I won't allow it." Bill stared at her in astonishment.

"Molly," Arthur said warningly, putting a hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off, standing once again.

"No," she said forcefully. "You cannot possibly go so far away from home."

"I am an adult, Mum," he said quietly, keeping a tight rein on the anger that had begun to build.

"I don't care," she snapped. "We've just gotten you back." Bill opened his mouth to retort, but Arthur held up a hand.

"Why don't you go and join your brothers and sister," he said. "Let your mother and I talk." Bill's eyes were flashing in anger, but he nodded curtly to his father and left the kitchen, letting the door slam behind him. Arthur turned to his wife.

"Don't even bother Arthur," Molly said tightly and Arthur sighed.

"Molly," he began, but before he could say anything else, his wife had put her head in her hands and started to cry. Arthur bit back another sigh and pulled her into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. "Don't cry Mollywobbles," he whispered. "It's not like we won't ever see him again."

"But it's so far," she wailed and he tightened his hold on her.

"Love, you knew this would happen," he said. "Children grow up and move on to lives of their own. It's what they're supposed to do." She sniffed into his neck, but her cries had quieted. She pulled back from him a bit.

"Well I don't like it," she pouted. Arthur chuckled and kissed her.

"I don't like it much either," he admitted. "But it is the way of things." She lay her head back down and sighed.

"I just can't believe how quickly they are all growing up," she said. "Charlie took his O.W.L.S. and the twins will be starting at Hogwarts next year. Where does the time go Arthur?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," he said, resting his cheek on top of her head. They stood there for a few minutes, both of them remembering earlier times when all of their children were small. It had been difficult, having so many little ones, but Molly wouldn't have traded it for all the gold in Gringott's.

"I need to talk to him don't I?" she finally asked and Arthur smiled into her hair.

"Yes," he simply said. She looked up at him and he kissed her again. "I'll take care of the dishes." She squeezed his hand and then left the house, walking towards the meadow where the children flew. She came across Bill before she reached it, sitting on the ground, leaning against the large oak tree that the old swing was hung in. Molly sat down on the swing, pushing it slowly with her foot and stared at her oldest son.

She had been so nervous when he was born that she would do something wrong. The first time he cried for more than a few minutes she had been nearly beside herself trying to discover what the problem was. It had taken a floo-call to her mother to calm her down, her mother reminding her that sometimes babies just cried. He had always been the one to bear the brunt of her childrearing mistakes, his younger siblings benefitting from things she realized didn't work. But he had never complained. It just wasn't in his nature.

He had always been such a sweet boy, happy and loving. He had gotten into his share of mischief, but he it had never been malicious. He had always been well-behaved and polite. He had been so helpful with his younger siblings, especially George and Fred after Ron and then Ginny were born. Molly realized that she had relied on him more than she probably should have for one so young.

She looked at him again and realized that his hair was getting longer, the ends curling over his collar. Molly reached out a hand and carded her fingers through it. He looked up at her and she smiled.

"I think I owe you an apology," she said. He shrugged, but maintained eye contact with her. "It's hard for me to remember sometimes that you're a grown man now." She sniffled a little, but didn't allow the tears that were gathering to fall. "To me, you're still just that little boy who used to bring me flowers that you picked from the garden and give me sloppy kisses." Bill grinned sheepishly and his face colored a bit. "I am so very proud of the man you've become." He looked up at her again and this time, she let the tears run, but the smile stayed on her face.

"Mum," he said, standing and taking her hand, pulling her up from the swing and wrapping his arms around her. She could remember when he would bury his face in her stomach, but now her head only reached his chest. She pulled away after a few moments and put a hand to his cheek.

"You realize that you'll always be my little boy," she said.

"Yes, Mum," he replied, giving her a cheeky grin. She nodded and felt a hitch in her chest.

"Gringott's doesn't realize how lucky they are," she said. He hugged her again and kissed her cheek.

"I love you Mum," he whispered and she merely gripped him tighter, saying her own silent good-bye. The first of many she knew, but she wouldn't think about that now. There would be more than enough time for that and for now, she just wanted to enjoy holding her child in her arms.


	4. Weakness

**A/N - This was also written for Round 4 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. My prompt was weakness. **

**Weakness**

**August 1997**

It was his own fault really, his own weakness that had led them to this point. He had tried to resist her, succeeded for a while, but eventually succumbed as he had always known that he would. No matter how many arguments, how many excuses he put forth, she always had an answer, a reason, a solution. She was addicting, like those muggle drugs that Lily had told them about back in seventh year and he had allowed himself to believe that maybe she might be right, that there might be a future for them somehow.

Now though, now he knew that he never should have listened. That he shouldn't have let her convince him to date her, let alone marry her. He had seen the look of disgust on Andromeda's face before she quickly masked it when they had announced their engagement. Though Ted had seemed happy for them, Remus couldn't help but wonder if he was simply pretending for his daughter's sake. Who would want their only child married to a werewolf after all? The two had come to their small wedding, but had left as soon as the ceremony was over, Andromeda not even stopping to congratulate them. Remus was quite sure that Ted had forced his wife to attend.

When Dora had told him about the baby, just two days before Bill Weasley's wedding, Remus had been petrified. No matter how she tried to convince him otherwise, he was positive that the child would be like him, that he had condemned an innocent baby to a lifetime of pain and prejudice. He had thought of nothing else leading up to the wedding and after the attack at the Burrow, he made his decision.

They had gone home to their flat, Dora's flat, after hours of questioning. Dora had been so exhausted she had fallen into bed without even changing her clothes and was asleep moments later. Remus had sat up the entire night just watching her sleep. His heart had cracked and fissured thinking of the life they might have had, had he not been the monster that he was.

Deep down, he knew it was cowardly, what he planned to do, but he also knew it was for the best. '_Best for who Moony?'_ a quiet voice said inside his head that sounded remarkably like a combination of Sirius and James and surprisingly, Lily as well. He ignored it of course, his stubbornness shoving the voice to the back of his mind and locking it away in that place where he kept memories too painful to look at or think about. When dawn had come, Dora had yawned and stretched, blinking her eyes open and smiling up at him and he was once again lost for a time, the weakness that was him taking over and allowing him escape in her softness.

He hadn't told her then, how could he after that? He might be a coward, but he wasn't cruel, not like that. And once he'd lost it, it took him a bit to find that strength again, or what passed as strength for him anyway. A few days went by and then finally, finally, he told her.

"What are you talking about Remus?" Tonks demanded her hands on her hips and the tips of her hair red.

"You would be better off, both of you, without me," he replied and she glared at him, more of her hair slowing turning from pink to red, as if Remus needed another tangible sign of her anger.

"Don't be stupid," she snapped.

"Don't you see?" Remus had exclaimed then, for once driven to anger himself by her constant denial of the problem. "I have no money, no job, no prospects. The child will be like me, I know it. I've sentenced the both of you to prejudice, discrimination, intolerance. You'll be shunned, by your family, society. And the baby, an innocent, forced to endure that month after month. How can I sit by and watch that happen? How?"

"And you think that leaving us will make it better?" she asked, her voice dangerously low. "You think abandoning us will prevent that discrimination and prejudice you're talking about? That walking out will somehow miraculously make the baby not like you or not suffer that pain if he is? Have you gone completely daft?"

"It's gone too far," he muttered, shaking his head. "This shouldn't have happened. It's bad enough you married me, but now a child, too far." He continued shaking his head, as if doing it long enough would shake the inevitable truth from his brain and change it. Tonks took a few steps towards him and he remained where he was, an idea forming. She put a tentative hand on his arm and he allowed it, looking down at her.

"Don't do this Remus," she said pleadingly. "I need you, this baby, _our_ baby needs you." She took his hand and placed it on her belly, covering it with her own. "The baby will be fine, I know it. Don't ask me how I know, but I do. And even if he is born with lycanthropy, he'll have his father there to help look after him and help him understand." Remus looked away at this, not wanting her to see the pain in his eyes. She let go his hand and wrapped both arms around his neck. "Please don't do this."

He returned her embrace and she sighed, in relief he thought. He hugged her for a few moments before pulling away from her slightly. He ran a finger down her cheek and then kissed her gently before telling her he would make tea. Retreating to the kitchen, he took a tea cup from the cupboard and glancing quickly down the hall to make sure she wasn't watching, pulled his wand and tapped the cup, muttering 'portus' as he did so.

He strode back into the bedroom, the cup held down at his side. She looked up at him, a bit puzzled as to why he was back so quickly and without the tea and he moved to stand beside her again. And then he took her hand and wrapped it around the handle of the cup, covering it with his so she couldn't let go. She looked at him in confusion, then realization as the portkey activated. When they landed, she ripped her hand from his and glared at him, then looked and saw her parents' house in front of them.

"I'm sorry," he said automatically as he knocked on the door. She snorted and shook her head, crossing her arms and refusing to look at him.

"Who is it?" they heard from inside.

"Remus Lupin," Remus said. "I am a werewolf, recently married to your only child, Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be called Tonks, but grudgingly accepts Dora. You recently healed a raven-haired boy and a half-giant friend of mine before sending them on by hairbrush portkey." Remus heard the click of more than one lock and the door opened to reveal Ted, for which Remus was grateful. Andromeda would have hexed him into the next century, of that Remus had no doubt. Before Ted could say anything, Remus spoke again.

"I need you to look after Dora for me," he said. "Don't let her leave or try to follow me."

"Where are you going?" Ted asked in confusion.

"That doesn't matter," Remus replied and Tonks stiffened. "Just, take care of her please."

"I don't understand," Ted replied, looking back and forth between his daughter and new son-in-law. Remus sucked in a breath.

"She's pregnant," he said and Ted's eyes widened in shock. Remus turned and began to walk away, toward the boundary where he knew the anti-apparition wards ended.

"Remus," Tonks said, finally finding her voice. He ignored her and continued walking. "Stop, please." His heart broke completely in half, but he forced his feet to keep moving. "Remus!" she screamed just as he reached the boundary.

He paused before he turned to apparate, realizing that by leaving now he was only trading one kind of weakness for another, an irony that was not lost on him. A strangled laugh that sounded remarkably like a sob escaped him. He nearly broke then, nearly ran back and begged for her forgiveness, but instead he silently apologized to his unborn child, then turned and disappeared.


	5. Farewell

**A/N - So sorry it has taken me so long to update! It has been a very busy month. I hope that you enjoy this one. :)**

**July 2014**

Minerva levitated the last of the books into the open carton on her desk. She sealed the box and then shrunk it along with the others, tucking it into the small bag that sat beside it. She looked around the room at the now empty bookshelves and felt a clenching in her chest. It was time, this she knew, but it still didn't make it any easier to leave the place that had been her home for more than 50 years. Sighing, she checked the drawers of her desk one last time, although she knew that she had already removed everything.

It was odd to be leaving a place she had spent well more than half her life. Still, most of her old friends were gone now. Horace had only remained for another year after the war. Pomona and Poppy had retired five years ago and Filius had left two years previous. Severus and Albus were gone of course, as was poor Charity Burbage. Argus had finally had enough of Peeves and Irma had followed quickly after him. Minerva had her suspicions as to those two, but she had never pried.

Minerva had hired nearly an entirely new staff in the last five years; Rolanda, Hagrid and Septima were the only three that remained. Aurora had finally married her long-term beau and moved to the States, while Sybill had decided that her inner eye would be much more relaxed and open in the South of France than amongst all the hustle of the castle. Minerva had even been able to finally convince Professor Binns to move on and allow someone younger and actually alive to take of the History of Magic post.

"Minerva," she heard from behind her and she turned to look up at Albus' portrait.

"Albus," she replied, then returned Severus' nod.

"Are you quite sure you need to retire, my dear?" Albus asked. "After all, you are still much younger than I was when I was Headmaster. You have not even yet reached a century." Minerva saw Severus smirk and she nearly laughed aloud.

"Albus, we all know why you remained at your post for such a long time," she said. "Thankfully I do not have to deal with the likes of Tom Riddle. I'm sure Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have any other potential dark wizards well in hand."

"Still, the children," Albus began to protest, but Minerva held up a hand to forestall him.

"I have spent more than half my life in this castle as a student, teacher and headmistress," she said. "It is time old friend." Her eyes were misty when she said it and if portraits could cry, she was quite sure that Albus' would have been as well.

"About time someone else from my house was appointed Headmaster," Phineas said snidely. "We have been far too underrepresented. Even if he is almost too soft to be a Slytherin." Geoffrey Hawkings, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher since the war ended, had been unanimously chosen by the Board of Governors to take over as Headmaster. Minerva was not displeased with the appointment. He was quite competent and even fair, for a Slytherin anyway.

"Our house would do well to follow Professor Hawkings example, Phineas," Severus drawled. "You and I were no role models."

"Severus," Minerva admonished. "I know for a fact that you saved many a student from making the same mistakes you did during your time as Head of Slytherin."

"Not enough, Minerva," Severus replied, his eyes looking off into the distance. "Never enough." Minerva shook her head. He was still berating himself from the grave.

"Now Severus my boy," Albus chimed in. "Do not be so hard on yourself. Some is better than none, after all." Severus merely rolled his eyes.

"Speak for yourself, Severus," Phineas said. "I have no regrets as to my time here." It was Minerva's turn to roll her eyes and she hid a grin as many of the other portraits followed suit. Soon they were all arguing amongst themselves as to who was the best Headmaster or Headmistress the school had known.

Minerva moved about the office, running a hand over her desk, touching a cupboard or two, taking a look once more out the window that overlooked the Black Lake. She lingered there for a few moments, memories of her time as a student, as well as a teacher swept through her mind. The lake was where she had finally accepted one of Elphinstone's many marriage proposals and the two had been married on its shores shortly thereafter.

The giant squid chose that moment to surface and Minerva chuckled at his antics before turning back towards the office. She walked back to her desk and picked up her bag and put it over her arm. She looked up again at Albus and Severus' portraits and smiled.

"I shall miss the two of you," she said, tears glazing her eyes this time.

"And I you, my dear," Albus replied. Severus merely inclined his head, but Minerva was not surprised. He did not like emotional displays, he never had, and she was happy to know that he was not about to change now.

"I suppose I shall have to visit the Ministry now and then, if I ever want to talk to you," she said, looking solely at Albus now.

"Then I suppose I shall have to visit my portrait there more often," Albus replied, familiar twinkle in his eye. Minerva laughed over a sob. She didn't think it was going to be this hard.

"Good-bye Albus," she finally said, then turned and walked out the door before she lost her nerve. Riding down the spiral staircase for the last time, she stopped at the gargoyle at the bottom.

"The new Headmaster is Geoffrey Hawkings," she told the statue. "He shall set the new password when he arrives, but until then, 'farewell' seems appropriate." Minerva knew that no one would enter the office save the house-elves before the new Headmaster took his place there, so there was really no need to leave a password. Still it felt right somehow that she should.

She made her way across the grounds, grateful that she had said her good-byes to Hagrid earlier in the day. She did not think she could handle yet another display from him. It was difficult enough as it was.

When she reached the gates, Minerva turned and looked at the majesty that was Hogwarts Castle. The sun shone high in the sky and a light breeze fluttered the few strands of hair that had escaped from her bun. She raised a hand to her brow, shading her eyes and looked up at the spire of Gryffindor tower.

"Good-bye my old friend," she whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. And then, Minerva McGonagall exited the gates of Hogwarts for the last time. Forcing herself not to look back one last time, she turned and disapparted.


	6. Dragons

**A/N - I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update this. Life and all that. This chapter was also written for Ashleigh's Monthly Competitions on HPFC. This month's prompt was a parent/child relationship. All information about dragons in this piece came from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by JKR. And as far as I know, we aren't given Charlie's middle name, so I just gave him one. There are a couple of references to chapter 3 of this collection here, but you don't have to read it to understand this one. Of course if you want to, I'm not going to stop you. ;) Enjoy! **

**Dragons**

Charlie Weasley had been in love with dragons since he was two years old. Molly Weasley blamed her brothers. For his second birthday, Gideon bought Charlie a children's picture book about dragons. Two weeks later, at Christmas, Fabian bought him a stuffed dragon to go with it. For months afterward, Charlie would toddle up to his mother with his book and dragon in hand.

"Dagon, Mumma," he said, holding up his book.

"Charlie," Molly said in exasperation. "Haven't we read that book enough? Why don't you pick out another one?"

"No," Charlie said stubbornly, holding up the dragon book and clutching the stuffed dragon to his chest.

"Look, here's one about hippogriffs," Molly replied, holding up a different book. "Oh, or how about this one about the brave knight?"

"No, dis one," Charlie said again. And then he would do something his mother had never been able to resist. "Pease?" he said with his lower lip stuck out in a pout. Molly would sigh and try and look stern, but in reality her heart would melt and she would pick up her little boy and settle him on her lap to begin the story.

She had read the book so many times, she had it memorized and didn't even need to look at the pages anymore. Apparently, so did Charlie for anytime she tried to skip a sentence or two Charlie would protest vehemently and Molly would be forced to go back and reread the page again. While he would grow to love all magical creatures, his love for dragons never faded or was replaced by something else.

* * *

Charlie Weasley had been in love with flying since he was not quite five years old. Molly Weasley blamed her husband. For Bill's seventh birthday, Arthur brought him a full-sized broom. Bill's old training broom was passed down to Charlie who promptly jumped on and took off, flying much higher than the child-sized broom should have been able to go. Molly, nearly frozen in terror, could do nothing but clutch tightly to baby Percy as Arthur took off on Bill's new broom after his second son. He caught up to him a few minutes later and plucked the boy from the air, flying slowly back to the ground, Arthur's heart pounding in fear. Charlie, for his part, was grinning widely as his father touched ground.

"Mummy, Mummy, did you see me? Did you see how high I flew?" Charlie asked as he ran towards his mother. Molly, finally regaining hold of herself now that her child was safe once more looked down at the little boy.

"Charles Septimus Weasley, don't you _ever_ do that again!" Molly said sternly. Charlie's lip began to tremble.

"But, but, I was just flyin' Mummy," he said miserably. "Like Daddy and Bill." He burst into tears and Percy, whether from his mother's outburst or in sympathy with his brother, joined in. Molly handed the baby off to Arthur and squatted down in front of Charlie, gathering him into her arms.

"Sweetheart, you're much too little to be flying so high," Molly said soothingly. "Mummy just doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Charlie," Arthur interjected, having calmed the crying Percy. "How did you get so high, son?" Charlie shrugged.

"I wanted to go higher, so I told the broom," he said with a sniffle. "I like to fly." Molly looked up at Arthur whose lips were twitching with suppressed laughter. She glared at him.

"You're too little to fly like that Charlie," Molly said. "You have to promise Mummy that you're not going to try and fly higher than the broom will let you."

"But," Charlie began to protest, but Molly interrupted him.

"Or I won't let you fly at all," she said. Charlie sighed.

"Fine," he said petulantly, his chubby arms crossed in front of him. He watched wistfully from two feet above the ground as Bill and his father flew higher and faster. Scowling, he got off his broom and put it in the shed, leaning against the door and scuffing the ground with his trainer. Molly's mouth twitched at the adorable pouting face her son wore.

Three weeks later Molly found him in the meadow soaring high in the sky, giggling as he did a loop and then a dive. When she finally got his attention and called him back to the ground, he walked up to her with a sly smile on his face.

"Charles Weasley, what did I tell you about flying so high on your broom?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Not to go higher than the broom would let me," Charlie answered solemnly.

"Then what on earth were you doing?" she asked in exasperation. Charlie usually didn't disobey so blatantly.

"I was flying on Bill's broom," her son said with a grin holding it out. "It lets me go as high as I want." Molly opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. It was rare that any of her children left her speechless, but technically he hadn't disobeyed her. And after watching him, she could see that he was already a good flyer, probably even better than his older brother.

"I'll talk to you father about the charms," she said. "But no flying on your own. You've always got to have someone with you. Now go and put your brother's broom away."

"Okay, Mummy," he agreed happily, skipping off toward the shed. Molly shook her head as he went, but her eyes shone with pride.

* * *

Charlie Weasley had been in love with quidditch since he was seven years old. Molly Weasley blamed Henry Perkins. Perkins had given Arthur tickets to a Falmouth Falcons match that he wasn't going to be able to use and Arthur had taken Bill and Charlie. The boys had been interested in quidditch before of course, but once Charlie had been to an actual match, he could talk of nothing else. Dragons even took a back seat for a time.

"Mum?" Charlie said one night about a week later, when Molly was tucking him into bed.

"Yes, dear," she replied.

"Do you think I could play quidditch when I get to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"I think you can do anything you want to, Charlie, if you put your mind to it," Molly answered with a smile. "You're a wonderful flyer."

"Not as good as at the match," Charlie said. Molly chuckled.

"Charlie, you're seven years old," she said. "And those men and women are professionals. By the time you get to Hogwarts, I'm sure you'll do just fine. Now, go to sleep," she said and then kissed his forehead.

"Night Mum," Charlie said with a yawn.

"Good night sweetheart," she returned, standing in his doorway for a moment and watching him settle into sleep.

* * *

When Charlie Weasley was eleven years old, he fell in love with Hogwarts. Molly Weasley couldn't really blame anyone this time, nor did she want to, for she remembered exactly how he felt. His letters were full of excitement and enthusiasm for his classes, his new friends and quidditch of course. Charlie was happy to find out that the seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team was a seventh year. It was the position Charlie really wanted and he hoped to make the team the following year. There was no doubt in Molly's mind that he would. Charlie truly was the best flyer in the family, although Fred and George might possibly give him a run for his money in a few years.

It pained her that Charlie didn't seem to miss them much. In fact, when he returned home for Christmas that year, it almost seemed as if he wished he had stayed.

"Is everything all right dear?" Molly asked him when she found him sitting at the kitchen table with his chin in his hand, staring morosely outside.

"Yes, Mum," he replied. Molly sat down next to him and put a cup of hot cocoa in front of him.

"It doesn't look like it," she said.

"Just missing school is all," Charlie explained, wrapping his hands around his mug.

"Well, I'm glad to have you home for a bit," she said, taking a sip of her tea.

"I don't mean that I don't like to come home," Charlie said quickly. "It's just…different at school."

"Yes, I suppose it would be," Molly agreed. The two sat in companionable silence as they each sipped at their cups. When Molly finished, she studied her son's profile for a few moments before standing and patting his arm. Charlie gave her a smile and turned back to the window, deep in thought. Molly let him be, she was quite sure she wouldn't get any more information from him. Perhaps Bill would know something.

* * *

When Charlie Weasley was thirteen years old, he reaffirmed his love for all magical creatures, dragons in particular. Molly Weasley blamed Silvanus Kettleburn. Well, she couldn't say she blamed him, exactly. Charlie had been in love with dragons since he was two and Molly was glad that the Professor could instill such interest in his class. Although, privately, Molly didn't really think the professor had much to do with it in Charlie's case.

"It's amazing, Mum," Charlie said at Christmas that year, his eyes shining with excitement. "All those creatures that you read me books about, we're actually seeing some of them and taking care of them now. Did you know that we're studying Unicorns next year?"

"Yes, dear," Molly said with a chuckle. "Your father and I did take that class as well, you know." Charlie grinned and went back to helping his mother with the chickens. It was the only time she got a chance to speak to him alone with as noisy and busy as the house was. Charlie preferred to be outside, always had, and so Molly had tried to give him mostly outdoor chores when she could. He was the best garden degnomer of all of his brothers, simply for the fact that he didn't mind spending hours outside and would be sure he checked the garden thoroughly before he came back in.

Molly was not surprised when Charlie received an O on his O.W.L. and went on to N.E.W.T. level Care of Magical Creatures. The class was small, as not many chose to pursue the subject past O.W.L. level and Charlie was able to pick an independent project. Molly was not surprised at all when he chose dragons.

* * *

Molly Weasley knew she would lose her son when he was seventeen years old. She did not mean in an accident or from illness or war, but she would lose him all the same. Charlie Weasley came home for Christmas in his sixth year, full to bursting with enthusiasm for his new project. Professor Kettleburn had given Charlie quite a few of his own books to borrow over the holidays and Charlie could barely eat fast enough to get back to his room and continue reading through them. She rarely saw him at all that holiday as he spent most of his time closeted in his room or flying around the meadow.

On the night before he was to return to school, Molly knocked softly on his door, a pile of clean laundry in her arms. At his call to come in, she entered the room and set his clothes on his bed.

"I've finally finished all of your clothes," she said.

"Thanks, Mum," Charlie said absently, brow furrowed as he read a passage in one of the books.

"All packed up then?" she asked, hoping to get more than a few words out of him.

"Yeah," he replied, not even turning his head to look at her. Molly held in a sigh and walked around the bed to his desk. She stood next to him and glanced over all the books that he had open.

"So, what are you working on?" she asked, not seeing much rhyme or reason to his organizational system. "You haven't really told me much about it."

"Right now I'm looking at the different breeds and comparing them based on their diet and appearance, what their parts are used for, things like that," Charlie said, as he scribbled something down on the parchment in front of him. "For example, the horns of the Romanian Longhorn are the ones we use for potions ingredients, but the skin of the Swedish Short-Snout is what we use to make dragonhide gloves."

"I didn't realize there was a difference," Molly said in interest. Charlie was nodding.

"Most people don't, but they've all got their own thing that's special about them," Charlie went on. "It's pretty fascinating."

"Sounds like it," Molly said with a forced smile. "Don't stay up too late, all right? You've got to be up early tomorrow to catch the train."

"I won't Mum," Charlie said, going back to his books.

She stepped back out into the corridor and closed the door behind her. Leaning back against it for a moment, Molly closed her eyes and swallowed past the lump in her throat. Another one of her boys was going to leave. She had learned her lesson with Bill last spring though. She couldn't outright tell him he couldn't go and Arthur was right, it was what children were supposed to do. She still didn't like it.

* * *

When Charlie Weasley was eighteen years old, he fell in love with the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. When Molly saw the excitement on his face, she couldn't find it in her heart to blame anyone. The Sanctuary had sent a portkey along with their job offer so that Charlie could see the place firsthand before he made a decision. After Molly watched him disappear, she stepped into Arthur's shed and allowed the tears to come. She knew his mind was already made up and his visit would only solidify his decision. He had said as much during their conversation after dinner last night.

"They've sent a portkey for tomorrow, so I can visit before I decide whether I want to work there or not," Charlie had explained excitedly to his parents.

"That's wonderful son," Arthur replied with a smile, ever supportive of anything his children wanted to do.

"You know, there's a preserve in Wales," Molly said conversationally. "And the Hebrides."

"Yes, but they both only deal with one species," Charlie reminded her. "The Welsh Green and the Hebridean Black, respectively. And the one in Hebrides is run by the MacFusty family. They rarely hire anyone outside their clan. The Romanian Sanctuary has seven different breeds, including the Chinese Fireball, which I'm most interested in." Arthur nodded.

"What about quidditch Charlie?" Molly asked. "I know there have been scouts interested in you."

"Mum, I love quidditch, you know that," Charlie said. "But I love dragons more."

"All right dear," Molly said, knowing with certainty that she had lost.

Finally composing herself, Molly wiped her tears and took a deep breath. She left the shed and continued on with her day, waiting for her second son to return.

When he did, Molly could only smile and nod along with his continual commentary on his day at the sanctuary. When he finally paused to take a breath, Molly pulled him into a hug. She clung to him tightly for a few moments before Charlie pulled back a bit.

"Mum?" he said in question, clearly confused by her behavior.

"I'm just going to miss you," she said. Charlie blinked, once, then twice as he stared at his mother.

"Just like that?" he finally asked.

"Just like what?" she questioned.

"You're going to let me go, just like that?" he elaborated. "No refusing to let me, threatening me with bodily harm if I leave?" Molly chuckled.

"I see you've been talking to your brother," she said. Charlie smirked. "No dear, I think I learned my lesson about that two years ago. I know you're all going to leave me someday. That doesn't mean I have to like it." Charlie hugged her again and Molly sighed.

"When do you leave?" she asked when they had broken apart.

"Two weeks," Charlie said. Molly's breath caught. So soon.

"Well then sit down and I'll fix you something to eat," she said, impressed that her voice barely even shook. "Maybe having to cook for yourself will make you want to visit home more often." Charlie grasped her arm as she walked by and she turned to face him.

"Thanks Mum," he said and Molly was a bit surprised to see that his eyes were suspiciously bright. She took a step back towards him and put a hand to his cheek.

"You're welcome dear," she replied.


End file.
